A Dangerous Nativity

Chapter 5, Scene 2

"There's the noble one!" Freddy exclaimed, looking up at Mercury's great height. "He has fire in his eye, too." He raised a tentative hand and let the animal sniff at him.

"He's a great horrid beast," came a voice from the door. Charles stood with his feet planted outside the stable, a footman at his side.

"He's a beauty," Freddy disagreed, spinning on his heels. "How can you say that?"

"He's too much mount for a boy," Will put in before Charles could argue. "Come out to the stable yard, and I will make some introductions." He whispered instructions to Reilly and led the Wheatly boys out to the paddock. Two horses grazed in the grassy enclosure.

Freddy watched them with unfiltered longing. "Bit elderly, those," he murmured.

"Still able to carry a load," the earl told him. At the earl's voice, one of the two ambled over. He fetched out a lump of sugar. "Always know where the sweets are, don't you, now?" He patted the horse's neck and accepted a nuzzle in return.

"Gentlemen, let me introduce you to Lady Guinevere, Eversham's matriarch." Charles looked pained. "But I forgot my manners. Charles, permit me to make known to you Master Randolph and Master Frank Wheatly. Boys, this is Charles Wheatly, Duke of Murnane. I have the honor of being his uncle."

Both boys made a proper bow, but Randy couldn't contain his interest. "Wheatly! We have the same name," he exclaimed.

Freddy, who had already begun to caress Lady Guinevere's nose, said, "Of course we do, but Papa don't like to talk about it."

Charles did his best to maintain a haughty expression, but curiosity got the better of him. "What do you mean by, 'of course'?"

"I believe you are cousins, Charles. Freddy and Randy's father is your father's brother."

"Brilliant!" Randy exclaimed. "Cousins are almost as good as brothers."

The idea seemed to startle Charles.

"I'm ten just this month," Randy went on without noticing. "Freddy's twelve. How old are you?"

Charles glanced at his uncle. Nothing in his experience prepared him for the Wheatlys. Will could tell he waffled between putting Randy down as impertinent, and responding in kind. He looked at the other boys as though they were some sort of exotics. "Ten," he said at last.

"You're the lucky one, I guess," Freddy sighed, still looking at the horse. He climbed up on a fence rail to get closer. Charles frowned. "You get to have these beauties." Not the title. Not the house. Not the wardrobe. The horses. Good man, Freddy!

"Would you like to give the lady a trot around the paddock?" Will asked.

Freddy leapt down. "May I?" he breathed. Reilly came out of the barn carrying saddle and tack.

"Help Mr. Reilly saddle the horse, and you certainly may."

Charles watched Freddy scramble over the fence and take instructions from Reilly with open curiosity, and, Will hoped, some longing.

"Horse mad," Randy said.

"I beg your pardon?" the young duke asked.

"My brother is horse mad. Always was."

"Do you like horses?" Charles asked cautiously.

"I like them well enough, but I don't get much chance to ride. I like all animals. What is your favorite?" Randy asked.

Charles looked perplexed. Will doubted the boy interacted with livestock, much less wild animals. He had obviously had few interactions with boys his own age.

Randy went on talking. "I like the farm animals myself. The pigs smell, but they are smart as can be. The geese are bad tempered, and the chickens aren't too bright. The goat, though, is my favorite. Do you prefer wild ones?" This time he looked directly at his cousin, expecting an answer.

"I like birds," Charles admitted finally. "Especially hawks. I can see them from the nursery window when they hunt in the meadow."

"Brilliant!" Randy said. "I love them. There's a red-tail that hunts in the orchard. We have an owl in the woods, did you know?"

"Truly? I've read about them, but I've never seen one." Will watched his nephew's eyes shine with interest, all thoughts of status and class gone. He bit back his smile.

"I could show you. It isn't far," Randy suggested.

Charles turned to his uncle as if to ask if he might.

"Up you go, Freddy," Will said, putting an arm around Charles. "She's a patient and gentle soul. Walk her easy." Freddy clearly needed little instruction; he was a born rider. With little encouragement from Reilly, he began to circle the paddock.

"I could do that, if I wanted to," Charles said stiffly.

"Of course you could," Randy told him. "It just takes a bit of patience and practice." He leaned in. "Even I can do it."

Will thanked the Good Lord who sent these boys into his life. I might get through to Charles yet. Before he could consider how best to take advantage, retribution arrived in the form of an irate older sister.

"Randolph and Frederick Wheatly, what on earth are you about?"

"Hello, Cath," Freddy called from horseback. "We're just visiting. His Grace doesn't mind." He put his mount to a trot.